


The Boundary

by mightbeanasshole



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5382752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mightbeanasshole/pseuds/mightbeanasshole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An imagining of Michael's point of view at the beginning of Chapter 9 of "Intern From Heaven." Contains spoilers for Intern from Heaven -- so PLEASE go read that before you touch this if you haven't yet!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boundary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Eevee!

Michael can’t help himself.

He’s continued the mantra of _“over today, over today, over today”_ since he woke up -- far earlier than he should’ve, but it’s force of habit. Michael silently repeats the words to himself as he stares at his boss. The man looks smaller when he sleeps. Younger. Even a little sweet -- unburdened by whatever has made him so hard, so apt to squint and scowl.

Whatever it is that gets expressed in those rare moments when Geoff forgets himself, when he laughs easily at something or lets himself touch Michael in the office, when he thinks so hard that his face goes open and expressive -- that’s what takes over, Michael realizes, when Geoff is asleep.

Michael lays there for a few minutes -- no part of his body touching Geoff’s in the bed -- fighting with himself about what to do now.

He could get out of bed and start getting ready for the day. That would please Geoff the most, wouldn’t it? A real demonstration of his maturity, his ability to get on with his life as if Michael hadn’t had some of the most extraordinary sex of his life the night before. As if he doesn’t want more of that -- and more _than_ that, on demand, PDA, more shared drives, inside jokes, teasing text messages, the whole goddamn package. He can pretend like he doesn’t want a damned thing to do with it and he can put on his fucking jeans and move on. A perfect, professional intern.

Or, Michael thinks, he could give into the impulse that seems to be rolling over his body in waves from the moment his eyes opened: tuck his body into Geoff’s, find any space between the two of them and destroy it immediately. Skin on skin, waking his boss up gently with a mouth and a touch and maybe a few words about how they should renegotiate their agreement to “it’s over once we get out of bed, and we’re still in bed” rather than “it’s over this morning.”

In the end, Michael compromises. He scoots close in the bed. Gingerly, he reaches up a hand and begins to thread fingertips through Geoff’s hair. He wonders what Geoff’s hair must look like longer. Or shorter. If he has always worn it this way, or --

“Hi,” Geoff says. His voice is thick and a little syrupy and strange with sleep. Michael grinds down whatever feeling jumps up in his chest at the sound and gets ready to back off at the first word. Instead, Geoff leans into his touch. “You been up long?”

Well. That’s not exactly, “get off me,” Michael thinks. Geoff reaches behind himself and pulls the blanket up.

“Nah,” Michael says, nonchalant. “Like, half an hour.”

Unsure of where he stands, Michael scoots tentatively closer, working his way under the blanket and resting his head on Geoff’s outstretched arm but no more contact than that. Play it conservative, he thinks. Play it cautious.

Geoff lays his other arm over the top of Michael’s body and squeezes him, pulls him closer -- and God, it’s _dangerously_ good to tuck his face up against Geoff’s chest, to feel the warmth and security there in the bed, in Geoff’s arms.

The perfection of the feeling is a cruelty.

Geoff had been hard with sleep when he’d woken up, but Michael feels a throb against his leg and knows he’s harder now with the expanses of their skin touching, their bodies fitting together. Maybe his plan for renegotiation wouldn’t even be necessary, Michael thinks, stroking a hand down Geoff’s side before letting his palm rest softly on Geoff’s hip.

The hand is an open question.

Geoff answers it with a sigh.

“Michael.”

“Yeeees?” Michael smiles into Geoff’s shoulder.

“You remember what I said last night?”

Michael snorts a little at that -- it’s seared into his fucking heart. As _if_ he could forget.

“Yeah, but --”

“So you remember the part where I said it was a one-time thing?”

“Dude,” Michael says, pulling back a little bit so that he can see Geoff’s face and raising an eyebrow. “You’re fuckin’ hard, I can feel it. I could, you know, _help_ with --”

“No, nope, no,” Geoff says, sitting up, gulping air and rubbing a palm down his face. Michael has to resist the urge to pout visibly. Trying to get Geoff to stay put in bed is like trying to deal with a skittish animal. The man couldn’t be more frustrating.

He’s mad at himself, too. Of course. If he hadn’t pushed Geoff, maybe...

“I’m gonna go shower,” Geoff says. “Don’t… jerk off in my bed.”

That’s it. He’s pouting.

Michael rolls his eyes and flicks Geoff off before flipping to face the window.

“Don’t pout,” Geoff says.

“Yeah, yeah,” Michael mumbles. “Fuck you.”

The door closes behind Geoff and Michael allows himself to be a little offended that the man won’t even shower with the door open. The least he could do is let Michael take a leak and a peek before they have to go their separate ways.

Their separate ways that will leave them hip to hip in an office together, Michael realizes.

It’s hard not to get a little hurt at the rejection and the continued assumption that Michael doesn’t understand boundaries.

He understands them -- he’s not a moron after all.

He just doesn’t _respect_ them.

And curled on his side in the bed -- the big, comfortable, nicer-than-the-one-back-home bed that still smells like Michael’s boss -- it’s impossible to think about anything but them. The two of them. How good they could be, if Geoff could stop being such a colossal over-worried asshole.

They could figure out how to navigate this shit if Geoff would just _try it._ But he’s made it clear that he won’t. And so Michael will keep trying to force his hand.

Because if there’s one thing Michael Jones will not ignore, it’s a perfect opportunity.

 

 


End file.
